Truth. Justice. Minesweeper.

Sunday, July 17, 2005

I wasn't concentrating on the road at all as we drove back toward the city. I was thinking about my mind. I felt ruined. Or violated, or something.

My mind is what I use to think about stuff. What do I do now that I've got some random woman's memories in there?

This is what I get for hanging around with superheroes. Bad enough I get beaten up and shoved around and turned into a freaking cockroach and kidnapped into manual labor on another planet--now my mind has been damaged? I can't even blame Greyghost for this one; he told me not to go with Thunderhead.

Eventually I calmed down, though. Whatever chunk of Marcy's mind was lodged in my head didn't really seem to mix with my thoughts too much. It made my dreams a little weirder, but that's it. When I'm awake the only difference is this constant feeling of deja vu, which is annoying but tolerable.

Thunderhead wasn't talking much either. He just chewed on his fingernails and stared furiously out the window. Finally we started getting close enough to the city that I needed directions, and I said, "Where're we going?"

"There's only one place left I haven't tried," he said. "Probably should have been the first thing I did."

"Where's that?"

"Take the exit after the fireworks place," he said. "Well, I've really screwed things up."

"Does this have something to do with Incandesca?"

He looked at me, a little surprised. "No, no. Candy was long after. Poor girl died much too young. Yeah, I really screwed things up."

I wasn't sure how much of an answer that was.

"You blame yourself for her dying? I thought she was in L.A. when it happened."

He nodded. "Probably wouldn't have happened if she hadn't got mixed up with me, though. I've screwed a lot of things up for a lot of people."

"Uh huh. So... where exactly are we going?"

"Somewhere I might be able to fix all this," he said. "When you're on the off-ramp, turn right at the lights."

I followed his directions. They led me to a pretty rich-looking neighborhood outside a medium-sized town--Brookheim or Brockheim or something. Once we had the right street, Thunderhead gave me a street number. I drove along, looking for it.

"So what is this place I'm looking for?" I said.

"Home," Thunderhead said, confirming my suspicions.

"And just what the hell are we going to do at your home?"

"Put things right," Thunderhead said.

I saw the house number, and pulled up next to the gate. "Whatever," I said. "What's the connection between super powers and your family?"

"I failed them," he said. "I should never have left." I was starting to come around to Cruickshank's point of view. This did seem pretty crazy. Then I saw the gatepost.

The name on the gatepost was 'Scigrave'.

"I don't believe it," I muttered, and yelled at Thunderhead, "Hey! Take your mask off!"

"What?" he said.

"Take your mask off! Right now!"

He looked confused, but, hesitantly, peeled it back from his head. The guy was the spitting image of Greyghost. I couldn't believe I didn't notice before.

"That's it," I said. "Enough. I am not getting mixed up in this. Jesus Christ. I thought I was helping get rid of supervillains and here you drag me into this soap opera." I got out of the car and walked away.

Long walk to Brickheim, and a longer bus trip back to Empire City, but that's better than getting tangled up in Greyghost's family history. I mean, any more than I already am.
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